The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(30)

He was right.

He found a sleeping beauty. Ashlyn. Angel. Destruction.

Her amber hair was splayed over his snow-white pillow. Her lashes, two shades darker than her hair, cast spiky shadows over her dirt-smudged cheeks. She hadn't bathed, hadn't eaten. She must have tumbled to sleep soon after he'd left.

"Pretty," Aeron said, reluctant admiration in his tone.

Exquisite, Maddox silently corrected. Mine. Her lips were red and puffy, deliciously swollen. Had she chewed them from worry? He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, found himself reaching out - don't touch, don't touch - helpless to prevent the action. But he fisted his hands just before contact. His body was once again rock hard, need simmering inside of him. A dark need, frightening in its intensity and still so much more powerful than Violence had ever been.

How did she elicit such a response from him simply by breathing?

Touch her. Who wanted it? Him? The demon? Both?

Didn't matter. Just one caress, then he'd leave. He'd shower and return when she was rested - and he'd have himself under firm control by then. Surely he would.

Finally, opening his hand, his fingertips brushed the side of her cheek. A whisper-soft caress. Her skin was silky smooth, electrical. He tingled on contact, his blood instantly heating another degree.

Her eyelids popped open, as if she, too, had felt the jolt.

She jerked upright, hair cascading down her shoulders and back. Her sleep-rimmed eyes searched, locked with his, widened. "Maddox." She scrambled backward until she was smashed against the metal headboard. Chains rattled from the sides of the bed, the chains that bound him every night. "Maddox," she repeated, scared, awed... happy?

He, Lucien and Aeron stepped backward in unison. He knew why he moved - he'd seen his downfall in her pretty eyes the moment their gazes met - but he didn't know why the others had reacted that way.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she gasped out. "And what happened to your face? You're bleeding." He heard concern and it shook him deeply. Would she always affect him so?

She glanced at the others and gave a choked whimper. "It wasn't enough for you to kill him last night, you had to beat him up today, too? Get out, you... you... murderers! Get out right now!"

She leapt from the bed and stood in front of Maddox, wobbling slightly as she held out her arms to ward them off. Protecting him? Again? Eyes wide, he met the equally astonished gazes of the others.

Her actions were those of an innocent... or someone pretending to be innocent. Even so, Maddox found that he wanted to touch her again. In... comfort? He shook his head. Couldn't be. Had to be pleasure. That made sense. He was a man; she was a woman. He desired.

But would that desire grow darker, as he feared?

He gripped her arm and pulled her behind him. He shared a confused look with Lucien, then turned to face her. Before he could utter a single word, she rushed out, "Are you going to take me into the city now? Please."

And never see her again? "Eat," he commanded, harsher than he'd intended. "Bathe. I will return soon." To his friends, he barked, "Let's go." He stalked into the hall.

They lingered only a moment before following. After closing and locking the door, Maddox leaned his forehead against the cold stone wall beside it, measuring every molecule of air he drew in and forced out of his lungs as he tried to soothe his riotous heartbeat. This has to stop,

"You've brought trouble into our midst," Aeron said, remaining at his side. "And was she actually trying to protect you from us?"

"Surely not." But that was the second time she'd done so, and he was more confused now than before.

He straightened and scrubbed a hand down his face.

"Let me go, Maddox," Ashlyn called through the door. More than it had yesterday, her voice appealed to him. Soft, lilting. Erotic. "I was wrong to come here. I was. If it will help, I'll promise not to tell anybody."

"I know I've brought trouble," he told Aeron.

His friend arched a brow in that insolent expression Maddox was coming to loathe. "No apology?"

That was the worst of it; he still wasn't sorry.

"Forget the woman for now," Lucien said, waving a hand through the air. He squared his shoulders. "You've seen her. She is well. She doesn't appear to have let Hunters in - yet. Now we have a more pressing concern to discuss. What I tried to tell you earlier is that the gods - they are not who you think they are."

"Maddox, we need to talk to you," a harsh voice called, cutting off whatever response he might have made.

Lucien threw up his arms in exasperation and Maddox pivoted. Reyes approached, Paris and Torin at his sides. Two were scowling, the other grinning like the madman he was.

"Your woman has to go," Reyes growled. "I smelled her all night long, and I can't stand another second of that thunderstorm scent."

Thunderstorm? Ashlyn smelled like honey. Still, his jaw clenched at the thought of another man being so aware of her. "She stays," he said curtly.

"Who is she, why is she still here and when can I see her naked?" Paris asked with an eyebrow wiggle.

"Someone should kill her," Reyes countered.

"No one touches her!"

Aeron closed his eyes and shook his head. "Here we go again."